


Body Warmth

by oloreaa



Series: Orbit [1]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Cuddle Arrangement, Gen, Mutual Pining, Soft af, pure fluff, smidge of Angst?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:41:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26024374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oloreaa/pseuds/oloreaa
Summary: Cuddle arrangement. Faces are touched. Feelings were had. Reader is mad crushing on the Tin Can. A keldabe kiss? More likely than you think. Set before Din finds the Child.Cross posted on Tumblr
Relationships: Din Djarin/Reader, Din Djarin/You, The Mandalorian/Reader, The Mandalorian/You
Series: Orbit [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1888975
Comments: 6
Kudos: 77





	Body Warmth

It was unreal how warm he was. He was like a furnace, giving off heat in waves, completely enveloping you. It should be uncomfortable, way too hot and having you scooting away after a few minutes. Yet somehow you don't mind.  
You both had this arrangement, if one of you needs it, you both cuddle. Nothing more. Just simply sharing body heat in the icy cold that is space, and maybe conversation. It was not discussed afterwards, had never been in the many cycles since you have known him. This cuddling arrangement is simply something that exists and doesn't need to be discussed.  
The Mandalorian did not say a word as he pulled you a bit closer, but his steady exhale and the fast beating of his heart let you know that he was still awake.  
His chest was flush against your back, his arms wrapped around you, your legs tangled together. One arm under you head, the other laying across your waist, holding you close. His face is buried in the spot where your neck meets your shoulder, and you could feel him breathing you in.  
The blindfold over your eyes, robbing you of your sight, amplifies every motion he made, heightening your other senses. You were already melting, reveling in the warmth he gave off, and when he tightens his arm on your waist a bit more, tugging you into him, you let out a content sigh.  
The shirt he wore was made of cotton, slightly softer than the material of his trousers. The beskar was lying on a pile next to the cot you both were on, stacked carefully.  
No armour on him right now.  
And it was not only the beskar he seemed to have shed, but every other layer he surrounds himself for protection seems to have fallen to the side.  
"You smell nice", he said quietly, voice rough, even without the modulator. You couldn't help the shiver that went through you, and you knew that he definitely noticed. His voice was so close, spoken almost directly into your ear, warm breath brushing the underside of your jaw. You did not know how he did it, but his voice was like honey, warm and sweet. You could listen to him speak all day, and wished he would talk more often. It was a shame he barely said anything at all.  
"Thanks", you replied softly, so quiet it was more of a exhale. He buried his face into you some more, and you could feel some of his features, the stubble on his jaw and above his lips making you shiver. His lips were chapped and dry, brushing slightly against you.  
Closing your eyes even beneath the blindfold, you reminded yourself to breathe normally. You felt his broad, powerful arms around you, the thick muscles that hid beneath layers upon layers, formed by a hard life with an even harder profession.  
It was comfortable, simply sharing the moment. It was neither an obligation nor a chore. It probably has to border on somewhat of a miracle, that the Mandalorian allowed himself to be that vulnerable to you. You did not quite know if this is something that violated his creed, or if it's a loophole.  
But you have had nursed your little crush for long enough that you would take everything the man would give you. You knew that he would probably never tell you his name, and he definitely won't show you his face. Even with loopholes you won't have him the way you wanted. And you knew that he is only cuddling with you because he has not been touched otherwise. Both touch-starved as hell, it was only logical that you would share each other's company.  
Somehow, that was all right for you. Of course, it would be nice if he would genuinely care for you the way you did for him, but it was not disappointing or anything.  
You knew exactly from the beginning what to expect from a man like him, and even if it does hurt more and more the harder you thought of all the what if's, you have made your peace with it.  
It could have been a few minutes or it could have been hours, simply breathing together and taking comfort in the others warmth before he spoke again. "Thank you."  
He had mumbled this against your throat, his scruff tickling you slightly, making you squirm against him. You tried to suppress your shiver at the sensation, but you weren't successful if the curving of his mouth and his amused little huff against the exact same spot was any indication.  
"For what?", you managed to ask, turning your face over your shoulder, towards him.  
You could swear that his eyes were burning a blazing path across your face even without being able to see it.  
You wondered what colour his eyes were, but knew that you would never expect any answer even if you did managed to ask him.  
"For this", he said, and you felt on your skin how his lips twitches upwards. You moved your hand down the arm that was slung over your waist, and hesitated before carefully intertwining your fingers with his. He inhaled softly, and then pressed his fingers against yours so gently that you felt your heart beginning to crack. You both held each other's hands, the moment achingly tender and fragile, as if just one wrong breath could shatter the intimacy.  
How does he do this? How can he render you speechless, heart beating as fast as a hummingbird's wings with such a simple touch?  
"Okay", was all you could say, a small gasp escaping you when he tugged at you so that you were turned on your back clumsily, and then tugged again, so that you were facing him and should be able to look him in the eyes.  
If, you know, the blindfold was not there.  
Oh, how you wished that you could see him. To see how he looks at you. Is his face soft when he sees you? Does he smile? If yes, would it be a broad smile, so broad that the skin around his eyes would crinkle, or a small one?  
You were not quite sure of his age, but thought that he was older than you, making you curious. Does he have little wrinkles around his eyes? Deep furrows? Grey strands in his hair? Salt and pepper scruff?  
You imagined that that he would have wrinkles on his forehead because he seems to be someone who would frown or squint his eyes a lot. Probably deep bags under his eyes, bruised from how less he seems to sleep.  
Does he have a severe face? Or one that was unassuming? Is he someone that would stand out in a crowd or does he have forgettable features? Would you find him handsome?  
And even if not, would you still be attracted to him just because of the way he moves, the way he speaks?  
"May I-", the question escaped you before you thought about it, and you bit your lip to stop the rest of it. You scolded yourself, thoughts suddenly running at a million miles a hour. He probably picked up how your heart is suddenly beating much faster anyways since you were so close, pressed flush against each other. Your cheeks burned, and you felt embarrassment swelling in you.  
"What?" His reply was so soft that you almost didn't hear him.  
"Sorry, it's stupid", you whispered, mouth dry.  
He hummed low, and then shifted again, and you felt his forehead bumping softly against yours. The motion was so foreign that you had to blink, lashes catching on the blindfold.  
"Tell me", he said. You could feel his breath on your lips, and you swallowed. His forehead was still on yours, not pressing, but simply resting against it. You knew that the Mandalorian would never do anything that was unnecessary, so it had to mean something? Was he giving you permission to speak? You decided to just go ahead anyways. It wasn't as if he couldn't stop you if it was something he was uncomfortable with. By the stars, you were only able to share body contact because he allowed it, not the other way around.  
"May I touch your face?" The question came out so softly you were not sure as if you actually had said it out loud.  
The Mandalorian stilled. You gnawed on your lip, holding your breath.  
"You may." The answer came after a short while, his voice slightly cracked on the last word.  
With shaking fingers, you lifted your hand, past the cotton shirt he was wearing, and put your fingertips at the base of his throat. You could feel his pulse, heart beating fast, and somehow you were reassured. He seemed to be as nervous as you were, and somehow that fact made you feel a bit better. Turning your hand, grazing the stubble of his jaw, you exhaled shakily. He hasn't shaved in a few days but you did not mind. It tickled, and some patches were slightly uneven, but that somehow was endearing in it's own way.  
Your fingers found their way up to his cheek, brushing against his skin. He was warm. He was so, so warm. You felt the flush in your face, burning your cheeks. You stretched your thumb, and carefully traced the line of his nose. It seemed to have been broken a few times in the past. You were not surprised though. The beskar helmet had a flat surface.  
Then ran your fingers over his eyebrows. Were his eyebrows the same colour as the rest of his hair? If he was blond, were his eyebrows light as well? Or did he had dark hair? From his eyebrows, you slowly tracing your fingertip against his eyelid, withdrawing when you felt his thick lashes tickling you.  
He was looking at you, you realized, and flushed some more. Dipping your finger to the side, and then lower, running against the side of his nose to avoid accidentally poking him in the eye, you felt the bags under his eyes. Your earlier suspicions were right. He did not sleep enough and it showed under the pad of your thumb.  
"You should sleep more", you find yourself whisper, a smile at your lips.  
He huffed, sounding amused. "That bad, huh?"  
You shook your head, smiling, feeling painfully bashful. "That's not what I said."  
Carefully, you traced your fingers to the corner of his eye, and then tapped slightly against it. "What colour are they?", you asked, but didn't really expect an answer.  
He didn't answer for a long time. You shrugged, and if your smile was a bit wistful, no one but him saw it. "I'm sorry, you don't need to-"  
"Brown", he replied, very softly.  
Your eyes first widened in surprise, then you smiled brightly. Brown eyes. That suited him. The mental picture you had of him slowly filled in, and even if there are a lot of gaps left, it was more than you had ever expected to know from the Mandalorian.  
Your fingers wandered up, into his hair.  
"I always thought you were bald", you joked. He huffed softly, humming as you ran your hand carefully through the unexpectedly long hair. You would have thought that he would keep it short. It only seems practical. His hair was thick and soft, softer than you would have thought. When you pulled at it gently, gauging the length, you found it slightly wavy.  
Putting your fingers on his hairline, you tapped again in a silent question.  
"Also brown."  
It should be impossible how full your heart feels. Your lower lip trembled slightly when you realized what kind of trust he is putting into you. Of course, you knew rationally, many people had brown hair and eyes, probably more in the entire galaxy than you could even imagine. But this was a piece he had allowed you to see.  
This was something to be treasured.  
"Thank you", you said, unable to think of anything else.  
He huffed again, and you were sure that he was smiling. He had to be. "You're welcome."


End file.
